She was about 5’2″ and slender in build. She also bought her padded bras and thong p****** exclusively at Victoria’s Secret. She insisted that her bra was a 34B, but I had seen her many times going to bed in a snug tank top, braless and she was an A cup, perky and tipped with small n******. She wore size 5 thongs that let the bottom of her cheeks peek out from under her night shorts. But, I am not supposed to notice these things. She showed me a black satin bra/p**** set she was planning to wear on stage and I gave her the approval she wanted, s*** as hell.
Later, at the s*********, she asked me, “Latex or pasties?” I told her Latex. Next time she comes out, she thrusts her t*** in my face, asking me if that was better. I told her yes, it was. In fact, the only part of her I never saw was her p****, because she kept her thong on.
The only reason I wasn’t supposed to notice or acknowledge her perky t***, flat stomach and heart shaped a**, was because I was married to her sister. In my defense, she would tease to me with skimpy clothes and s***** talk. Also, she would f*** other guys in my house and was noisy enough to prove her level of arousal.
I didn’t really want to f*** her, per se. But, I did want to press my b**** between her a** cheeks and grind until I blew my load on her back. Or, I wanted her to s*** my d*** until she earned a pearl necklace that would run down her chest and drip off her t*** or better, she would swallow my load without losing a drop.